The Last to be Found
by Karniz Archada
Summary: A normal day in the life of Strike... sorta... maybe "The misconseptions of the life of Strike featuring a stinky rat" works better... ne?


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Author: Karniz Archada  
karniz_archada@hotmail.com  
URL: http://ginkoginko.com/nnnets/  
Site name: NNN! EtS!  
  
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This fan fiction is sole property of Karniz Archada. No distributive use is allowed  
in any way, shape, or form. Do NOT mail me asking so.  
Also, my fic's usually contain some type of homosexual contact, be it Yaoi or even  
Yuri, some of my fics actually contain it. If it bothers you, do not read, but I  
dont' do *hardcore* stuff... so it's safe to read... XD  
If there is anything in this Fanfic that bothers, disturbs, or even makes you wanna  
rip my larynix out, please do not tell me so. Any flames, or bad comments are just  
going to be ignored. Plus, anything of that nature will make me consider you an idiot.  
Learn to respect the works of others, no one writes to please others, they write  
to please themselves...  
And that as a note, please enjoy a rare taste of my Fan Fictions~  
~Karniz Archada  
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Title: The Last to be Found [it makes no sense...]  
Series: Bust A Move/Groove [Video Game]  
Genre: Comedy?  
Warnings?: Language, yadda yadda yadda...  
  
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The revelation was irrevelant. Only the dark crisp air beat against his mediocre jacket rustling on the wind. With a wild laugh, he shreiked his yell down beyond the streets and alleys of New York City. Distant people traveling and doing their nightly affairs looked up at the moonlit knight. His laugh booning toward every exsistance around him. The lights illuminated his omniscious prescence.  
"What a shitty night this is!!!" Yelled the man from the top of the building, people from the rotten street below began their tremors of yells and taunts toward that man on top of the building. Did he care? Not at all.  
  
  
The next morning, a bright light shone onto the area around the man from eariler. He groaned in pain from the painful result from opening your eyes before you got adjusted to the brightness. of course, he placed whatever sun-wear he had, radioactive sun beam repellant, next to him so that he could do some stretches. Pulling on his tight tank top, he sat up strait in his bed, made up of some blankets he could salvage [they were clean], and some type of pillow the natives call rocks. On went the usual routine for the day, before he would go onto the streets to annoy the living hell out of anyone he knew. On went the cuffs, the sneakers [not before but after the pants], and then finally, the only thing that meant anything in his dark drab life...  
  
The fly's..   
  
"Well, who am I gunna meet today?" The tall slender man walked outside upon the adoring public, only to be greeted by chirping of birds and something that sounded like human laughter. he grimmaced at the thought of living a life where a little tiny girl would be hanging alll over him. He shut the iron-clad door behind him, and locked it with his *special* key hidden in the *special* spot.  
Something felt like it just wanted to jump from it's deep dark cavern, to attack, to get it's prey. A small mutated rat jumped out from the backpack and onto the man's back...  
  
  
"SHORRRTTTTYYYYYYYY!!!!!"  
"What?" Shorty looked over from her spot on a park bench.  
"Get yer damn rat offa me!"  
"It's not a rat..."  
"OKAY FINE!!! MUTATED SPECIMEN OF PLASTIC WELDED INTO A PROTOTYPE MODE 6-00 AND REFINED IN SOME TYPE OF STINKY SKIN WITH FUR, TAR AND FEATHERED AND THEN MOLDED TO A SICKLY FORM AND ASSISTED TO KILL PEOPLE!!!" the man yelled, creating a frenzy of leaves on the ground from his *happy-happy* dance.  
"Strike..."  
Strike stopped, once hearing his name so seriously from the tiny girl that likes to hold on. "What..."  
"You know, I don't like Coloumbo either, but if you are nice to him, he will be nice to you..."  
"HE!?!" Strike yelled from behind plexiglass, "HOW CAN YOU TELL!?! It could be a BITCH fer all I care!?!" He grabbed Coloumbo's propped tail from his dreads. Swinging him round and round for a ride of his life, not until letting the poor desolate creature go at a 180 degree turn into some tree in a distance. it landed with a thud. no wait, an omph.. no, let's call it ERRggghhhhhhh... that's better... -^_^-  
Strike grunted like cavemen do. He walked over to the bench that the startled Shorty was sitting at, her eyes were wide open, "Strike... You go and find Coloumbo RIGHT NOW! I know that you do not like him, but he was a present from my papa! The first real gift from anyone I've ever gotten!", she got a little teary, "And I know that not everyone likes him too much, but he's a real sweety!"  
Strike comented, "Yeah.. that thing has one heckofva sweet-TOOTH!!! He likes the taste of blood... "  
Shorty turned away from Strike, "I wish that you can find him... Please?"  
"ummm... let me think. NO!"  
She stared to bawl.  
"Now Shortums..."  
A woman saw Shorty crying, she HAD to say something, "Young man, what have you done to this young girl?"  
"He took away the only thing that made me... me!" Shorty cried a little and sniffled with her sleeve.  
Strike took a blow to the head...  
  
.......  
  
  
Pointing toward the east, Strike licked his finger to feel the wind, "Okay, if I threw him due-east, at about ten miles an hour. He would have at least a speed velocity of 2.0 if he traveled at least one mile..."  
"What does that mean?" Shorty said as she held the icepack to Strikes head.  
"It means that he's far away and that he's probably not going to get up..."  
"..."  
"Well!" Strike stood up, "No use in looking for him, seeya!" Strike started to walk away when he felt a tug at his pants.  
"But you promised..." Shorty said with droopy eyes.  
"But Shorty, mad lovin' comes LATER in the day..."  
She looked disgusted, "Look! I'm not playing!!! GO AND GET MY DAMN MOUSE!!!"  
The people around them started to stare...  
Strike bawled, "Listen Shorty, why don't you get yer damn mouse... I don't have to search for anything for you, yeah, I may have gotten rid of something that was very precious to you, but who else gives a damn!?! Things come and go!"  
The crowd formed around Strike...  
  
........  
  
  
Strike muttered to himself, "That's it Shorty.. I know what you have been doing all this time.. getting me to say something totally WRONG and then have helpless people come to your aid because they think that I've done something harsh to you!?!?"  
Shorty smiled, "Yatta!"  
"Damn I hate you..."  
Strike got up and started to walk down Canal street, ignoring the sidewalk bargain shops ...He then came to a chinese eatery. "First clue, look through ALL of the restaurants... Coloumbo has one HELLUVA appetite!"  
Strike walked in and looked around a little, he asked the cooks if they had a rat in their kitchen and they kicked Strike out.  
"Damn... well, that's no good.. these damn people are so damn stuck up.. so what that they have a little rat in their kitchen... no harm..."  
Suddenly, a loud scream was heard from inside another eatery. Strike ran across the street, ignoring the loud humms of large stationwagons and volkswagons and other wagons of different interbreeds honking at him. When he was close enough, he saw what was the problem... it was a little mouse...  
"COLOMBO!" Strike screamed to the top of his lungs as he ran over to the fiesty mouse, he grabbed it by the tail and hastilly ran back. To avoid the cooks lunging the pots and pans at the rat. Strike ran for what seemed to be an eternity, back to the park, where shorty was there crying her eyes out.  
Strike threw Colombo at Shorty, "here's your damn rat..."  
"OW!"  
"Ha!" Strike muttered, "you needed that..."  
Shorty went over to him and grabbed his ear, "NO I DID NOT! and since you're up and all, I've decided that you need to clean up!"  
"Clean up what?"  
Shorty threw him on the floor of his little shack, "What you call a house..."  
"Aw... man..."  
  
END!  
  
[I'm very sorry for the... abrupt end of this fic... apparently this was written some time ago... and I had lost interest when I *was* working on it... but it's filled with my blunt and crude humor... so at least *that* makes up for it... ne?] 


End file.
